Far From Home
by songsofmiddleearth
Summary: When Susanna abandons her human life and home in search of adventure, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle as she finds herself at the mercy of the gloomy depths of Mirkwood Forest, and its Elven King. Thranduil x (Human) OC. Adventure/Jealousy/Love/Sex
1. Chapter 1

_**Far From Home  
**_

* * *

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC - all else belongs to the creative genius Tolkien !_**

* * *

**Chapter One**

The air was heavy and still as Susanna trudged on through the dense undergrowth, with only the littlest amount of sunlight to guide her way. Hidden tree roots

threatened to snag her weathered boots with every step, and her tanned face was scratched in several places from the thorny vines which often blocked her way.

Coming to a sudden halt, she granted herself a moments rest as she released her arms from the straps of her backpack, and allowed the heavy gear to slip to the

moss covered ground with a thump. With laboured breathing, the human girl gazed upwards at the overhead canopy of greens and browns, wishing for a breeze or

even some rain to ease the suffocating atmosphere of the forest. She had not been in Mirkwood for but a day, and already she was beginning to feel affected by it –

the humidity clung about her uncomfortably, and the shadows and strange noises put her on edge. Her mind felt woozy, and she was vaguely aware of her thoughts

becoming more and more unfocused, as if there were some spell upon her.  
**  
**

* * *

Resting a hand upon a gnarled trunk, Susanna briefly let her mind wander to her hometown not two weeks journey from here. When their healer (an ancient kindly

man with a wrinkled face and a wealth of life experience) had died before they could choose his successor, her people had been in shock, and were slow to react. He

was very old, nobody denied that - but he had cheated death for so long that it seemed as though he would stay with them forever. Almost one hundred years old, he

had long outlived their other medicine men, and had been their chief healer since he settled in the town at the age of twenty and two years – the age Susanna

possessed now. He had been like a father to her, and her hand clenched into a fist against the bark as she struggled to fight the hot tears which threatened to spill

down her face at his memory. Always filling her head with tales of peril, love and excitement from his adventures in faraway places, Micah had taught her that life had

much more to offer than the daily gossip and mundane chores of her small birthplace. Her own father was a brute of a man who would smack first and ask questions

later, and was adamant Susanna would sew and sing and get married like the other girls – going on a short trip to a neighbouring village took weeks of persuasion,

and learning a trade or even how to defend herself with sword or bow was simply out of the question. Micah had recognized her burning desire for more, and had

risked her father's deadly temper night after night as he taught her to read and write in secret. By the age of sixteen, she had devoured all his books on healing

properties, and was well versed in how to survive in the wild, as well as the proper way to wield various weapons - but that was all theoretical. She had no actual

experience of anything (except in healing, for Micah would sometimes allow her to assist him or even take charge in treating minor ailments), and so when she had

found herself running home after the news of his passing to pack clothes and provisions, she could scarcely believe what she was doing. Her face had been a mask,

the tears in her eyes the only indication of her heartbreak as she robotically fastened her backpack, and slipped her brother's dagger and sheath about her waist. In

her grief Susanna's wits had been scattered, and she had not thought to take with her any medicines, or even another weapon should she lose the first. All she knew

was that there was nothing here for her now; the world had been turned upside down and she had to get out, she had to leave this place and start her life afresh,

free of restrictions, the way Micah had lived, the way he would have wanted her to spend her adulthood – not squander what time she had left in a dead-end town

learning nothing, doing nothing. Neighbouring towns and cities had fleetingly crossed her mind, but her father would surely search for her there to bring her back,

and may well even kill her for the shame her scandalous disappearance would bring upon the family. Susanna did not care how her actions may reflect upon them;

since her mother's death, her father's temper had only increased, and where she had thought she might find kindness in her brother William, she was met with only

stony indifference – he withdrew into himself, their mother's passing having affected him deeply. Where at first she had felt pity and empathy, Susanna had soon lost

any patient understanding she might have held for him – his face as he sat silently watching the first time their father had violently beat her in a drunken stupor had

seared into her brain, and it was his utter disinterest in her suffering which had been the source of her agony as she sobbed into her pillow later that night, rather

than the bruises and cuts that layered her body. And so her mind roiling with emotion, Susanna had stepped out of her doorway for the final time, leaving behind her

world as she knew it. Her senses clouded by grief and anger, she had blindly allowed her feet to lead her where they would, as her heart and mind remained cloaked

in a sense of loss. It was only when she found herself hesitating at the edge of Mirkwood forest that she finally came back to herself – as though waking from a very

deep sleep, the sight of the gigantic trees before her and the pleasant noises of birdsong and water that reached her ears as she gazed upwards in awe reminded her

of why she was here, and not at home preparing lunch for her father, or at choir practice with the other town girls. Micah had wanted her to live – and live she would.

* * *

A sudden rustling in the trees not far from where Susanna was standing jolted her out of her memories, and back to reality. Swiftly unsheathing her dagger, she stood

tensely - eyes searching every shadow, ears straining for another sound. When she was met only with silence, save for the familiar chattering of sparrows, she let her

body relax. Inhaling deeply, she relished the warm, earthy scent of the forest – so unlike the dirty smoke filled air of human towns. Smiling, Susanna bent down to

recover her backpack. _There it was again._ Her fingers outstretched, she stood frozen for a heartbeat, paralyzed by the icy fear creeping down her spine. _It's getting_

closer. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she straightened quickly. Holding the blade defensively in front of her, she cautiously edged backwards, increasing the

distance between her and the stirring bushes. Something skittered in the thicket to her left. Susanna leapt to the right, almost tripping over a fallen branch, her heart

pounding in her chest. Her hands were shaking. Tightening her grip, she steeled herself against the feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm her, and focused her

senses on the present danger. _She was being hunted, _she realized with surprise – and then everything seemed to become like a dream. She was vaguely aware of a

horrible snapping noise approaching from her side, and herself as she stooped, quick as lightning, to snatch a rock with her free hand. It was heavy in her grasp, and

weighed upon her arm as she held it behind her, ready to fire. She rotated slowly, half crouched, her breathing shallow and uneven. The scurrying of what could have

been a thousand legs was now all around her, and when the first monstrous beast broke through the undergrowth, she hurled the rock fiercely without hesitation,

before hastily lifting another. Her body was on autopilot, and Susanna numbly observed as she blinded another foul creature with expert aim, her arm appearing to

have a mind of its own as it catapulted stone after stone into the bulging eyes that swarmed about her. She was completely at the mercy of the fighting instinct

overpowering her mind and body, and it swiftly quelled any desire to run, or scream for help. The impatient snapping of countless pincers filled her ears, adding to the

roaring of her own blood. She wildly sliced at the air as one came close, and the spider screeched in pain as her dagger bit into a leg. Whirling round, she repeated

the action, daring any creature to come within range of her frantic hacking. The adrenaline pumping through her veins gave her strength, but the detached coolness

that had gripped Susanna in the face of death began to falter, as she realized she was outnumbered beyond hope; where she had warded off some with the sting of

her rocks, more had returned – and she could not hope to survive, should the horde of gigantic beasts mass upon her at once. Wishing she had more knives to throw,

Susanna's panicked thoughts were interrupted as something flew past her, inches from her face. Startled, her shaking hands lost grip of the dagger, and it fell out of

her grasp, burying itself amongst the foliage. She turned towards the source of her distraction, but could see nothing except the spiders' restless black legs, and the

thick cobwebs that now stretched between the trees. A piercing squeal to her right caused her to spin round, but before her muddled head could register the spider

writhing on its back, or the several arrows that were embedded in its abdomen, a blinding pain in her left calf brought her heavily to her knees. A gasp wrenched

from her lips. The small scalds and cuts from life in the town were nothing like the pain radiating up her leg – even her father's slaps and punches paled in

comparison. Susanna's breathing was ragged as she struggled to her feet, and she almost hit the ground again as a wave of agony washed over her from the

pressure of standing upon her injured leg. With barely the tips of her toes touching the leaf ridden soil, she blinked rapidly, and shifted her weight to the right. Her

vision was blurry and unclear as she gazed at the scene unfurling before her. Swaying slightly, she could make out that a great deal of the creatures were on the

ground, unmoving. The few which remained were screeching furiously - but at what, Susanna could not see. Frowning with confusion, she glanced down to survey her

wound, her mind reeling with pain. The sight which met her seemed almost too horrific to be true; a long shafted arrow had punctured the flesh of her calf, luckily

missing the bone – but had pierced right through the muscle, and the bloodied arrow head alongside a few inches of wood protruded sickeningly from the other side

of her slender leg. Susanna's green eyes widened in disbelief. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she weakly fought back the urge to retch. There was a

roaring in her ears, and faintly she could hear voices shouting. _That's not the language of men_, she thought feebly, unable to tear her eyes away from the blood which

had soaked through her leggings. Fear had replaced confusion, and the fogginess gripping her mind was growing stronger. The blood had formed a small pool about

her foot. Fighting to retain consciousness, Susanna forced her right foot forwards. She had to get the dagger, she had to defend herself. She _could not_ die on her first

day in Mirkwood. What would Micah think, if he were to see her fail so soon! Her mind reeling from pain and emotion, she made her left foot follow. The spasm of

agony that seemed to shudder through her entire body made her cry out, and it took all she had to stay upright, her leg shaking violently. The tears which had pooled

in her eyes overflowed and streaked down her face, and she inwardly cursed herself for her weakness. Gritting her teeth, she managed a few more uneven steps –

but the pain was too much. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and she felt her knees give way beneath her. The roaring in her ears was deafening, the searing pain in her

leg blinding. She could feel herself slipping from consciousness, and her hand clenched, fingers digging into leaves and dirt as she tried to fight it. She was only half

aware of the footsteps approaching her, or the pair of hands lifting under her arms, turning her onto her back. Suddenly the cold hard ground fell away from beneath

her, and something lightly brushed against her face, tickling her slightly. Her eyelids felt as though they were made of stone, and a small moan escaped her lips as

she forced them open, spending what little energy she had left. Gazing upwards, the last thing to fill Susanna's mind before fading into blackness, was the long,

white-blond hair falling about her like a curtain, and a pair of piercing azure eyes staring intensely into hers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Far From Home  
**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OC - everything else belongs to the creative genius Tolkien !****  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two **

_Thranduil gazed down at the unconscious girl in his arms. She barely weighed anything at all, and her delicate face was stained with tears. When she had opened her _

_eyes briefly to stare up at him, he had felt his heart jolt, and so he had stared back in amazement and utter confusion – who was this human to make him feel..well, _

_anything? She was a stranger, and a trespasser at that. He should leave her where she lay. And yet.. Ignoring his son's questioning expression, the King of Mirkwood _

_turned slowly. Barking a command for the guard to follow and slay the spiders which had retreated, Thranduil met them all with an icy glare. Under his watch their _

_judging eyes were quickly averted, and all but one hurried to fulfil his order. Legolas remained, standing firm with crossed arms. "What is she to you?" he inquired in _

_elvish. "Why not leave her for a member of the guard to deal with?". Thranduil paused for a moment, struggling to determine the answer to that himself. Though _

_internally reeling with confusion and sudden doubt at his actions, not once did the hard mask of the King falter, even in front of his son – especially in front of his son. _

_"My reasons are of no concern to you, Legolas." he replied smoothly, walking to stand by the majestic elk he rode in place of a horse. Lifting the girl over an _

_armoured shoulder, Thranduil placed his hands upon the creature and swung up onto its back in one quick graceful movement. Placing her in front of himself, his _

_arms gripped the reins on either side of her body, forming a protective barrier preventing her from falling to the side. Her unconscious weight leaned back against _

_him, and her head rested upon his chest, just under his chin. The King fixed his steely gaze on the road ahead, and did not look down at his son or the girl again as _

_he spurred his elk into motion, beginning the journey back to his palace._

* * *

Susanna awoke slowly, with a pounding in her head. Her left leg was throbbing, but the pain had subsided significantly. Laying for a minute with her eyes closed, her

mind registered the sensation of something cool and crisp covering her, and the comfortable softness supporting her body. There was no sound, save for her own light

breathing - no birdsong, or telltale signs of life. After a few moments her grogginess dissipated, and her eyes fluttered open. Her jaw instantly dropped slightly in

shock; she was in a strange, beautiful room, unlike any she had ever laid eyes on. The warm glow instantly made her feel at ease, and as her eyes adjusted to the

soft strange light, she looked about, drinking in her surroundings. She was in a bed – large and elegant, the four wooden posts and headboard were intricately carved

with various flowers and plants, as well as several small woodland animals. The coolness she had felt upon her chest was a clean white sheet, and as she inhaled she

noted that it smelt faintly of lavender. Breathing in deeply, she savoured the scent. As she roamed her eyes about the room, Susanna wondered at her surroundings;

in place of brick or stone, the walls seemed to be formed from endless intertwining roots, and when she gazed upwards she found that the ceiling was the same.

There was no door so to speak; only a pointed archway leading to an empty corridor beyond. With some difficulty she shifted her injured leg over the side of the bed,

noting that the arrow had been removed and the wound covered with a thick white bandage, and moved to sit hesitantly on the edge, her toes just barely touching

the ground. Upon straightening up her head spun dizzyingly, and for a second the room disappeared from sight in a blurry haze of darkness. Breathing deeply,

Susanna waited until her vision returned. Her mouth tasted of sweetness, and moving her tongue about she deciphered berries and a sharper mystery ingredient - a

kind of pain medicine, she guessed. Burning with curiosity for the building about her, she considered exploring, rather than waiting for someone to visit her.

Remembering suddenly the man who had held her, as she thought of his strange, spellbinding eyes that had held so much yet disclosed so little, Susanna abruptly

decided. She needed to find out who had saved her, and why. Always one to take things into her own hands, she dismissed the option of waiting idly for the answers

to come to her. With her thoughts lingering on those mysterious azure orbs, she lowered her feet fully to the warm floor, supporting herself with one hand on the

carved bedpost. Her torn clothes had been replaced with a simple white sleeveless shift, plain but for the lines of pearls sewn delicately into the bottom hem. As she

stood, the silky fabric clung tightly about her body, and instinctively she wrapped an arm about herself, uncomfortable with the sensation of being so exposed.

Glancing at the only piece of furniture in the room except for a couple of wooden chairs, disappointment and a spark of worry filled Susanna's heart – the dressing

table was void of any of her belongings. She was trusting by nature, and so jumped to the conclusion that her clothing must be being repaired, or washed – but

where was her backpack? Her dagger? Tentatively taking a small step forward, she leaned her weight upon her injured leg. Grimacing in pain, she made herself adjust

to the sensation before taking another. Moving to the end of the bed, she placed as little weight as possible upon her injured leg as she limped forwards. The pain was

more than she'd ever experienced, but it was bearable – nothing like back in the forest. She was strong willed, and damn it if she wouldn't at least try to satisfy her

thirst for answers.

* * *

Tracing her fingertips lightly against the smooth walls of the corridor, Susanna made her way along the path that showed no signs of ending. Turning another bend,

she absently wondered if it was proper to have left her room in her current attire; assuming it was a light dress, only when she had looked down to properly scrutinize

her outfit did she realize that she was clothed in what was most probably a nightgown. Inhaling sharply, she had quickly looked over her shoulder, fleetingly

considering returning to her bed – but the archway had been left behind out of sight, and looking down again she determined that it wasn't too indecent: though the

silky material hugged her figure, it covered her from her chest to her toes, and was thankfully opaque. Besides, there wasn't a soul about to judge her. Frowning at

the fact, Susanna's thoughts were still with the modesty of her wardrobe when she turned a sharp corner and was abruptly knocked backwards, as she collided with

something tall and hard. Gasping from shock and the pain shooting up her jarred leg, Susanna threw her arms out to steady herself, her mind racing as she stumbled

back. It all happened in a heartbeat; one second she was calmly following the bend, and now suddenly she was bent backwards, a pair of strong arms preventing her

fall, her heart pounding from fear and confusion. Her eyes darted upwards, and took in a fair face with gentle brown eyes, framed by a waterfall of shiny brown hair.

Realization dawned, and she remembered to breathe again – not something, but someone. "I-I'm sorry" she stammered, a blush colouring her cheeks as she realized

her hands were gripping his shoulders. She had never been this close to a man before. His hair smelt of raspberries, and the scent made her mouth involuntarily

water. The corners of his lips twitched upwards, and he gazed intensely at her for a moment before pulling her upright and separating their bodies. With an arm

behind his back he inclined his head slightly, his hair shifting to reveal a glimpse of a pointed ear. He's not a man at all,Susanna gasped internally, He's an elf! She

had often heard tell of the elves, from both town gossip and her books, as well as the tales Micah would sometimes tell her - but never had she laid eyes upon an

immortal for herself. "Forgive me", the stranger said, jolting her from her musings. "It was not my intention to startle you. I am Lindir." – his smooth voice was

pleasant to her ears, and momentarily Susanna forgot why she had left her room. "I'm Susanna." was her eventual reply, her mind too cloudy from pain and

excitement and confusion to think coherently. The elf smiled, and inclined his head once more. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He paused. "It is not often

one sees a human in King Thranduil's care". His tone was curious, and Susanna shook herself, trying to summon her wits back to her. "I.. Spiders overwhelmed me in

the forest, I was just travelling through. If the King's men hadn't found me I'd most likely be dead." she replied, blurting the words out hastily. She felt her cheeks

flush once more, and for once in her life she was grateful for her tanned complexion. If Lindir was amused by her awkwardness, he had the good grace not to let it

show. "Where is it that you are travelling to, unaccompanied as you are?" he inquired politely. Desperately trying to remember what towns lay beyond the borders of

Mirkwood, Susanna was saved from confessing she that had no actual destination, as a cold voice suddenly sliced through the air.

* * *

_After holding council with the elven lords of Rivendell, Thranduil's mind drifted once more to the human girl he had found in his forest. He had no important matters _

_to attend to for the rest of the evening, and so deemed it time to discover her reasons for trespassing upon his land. More than that, he desired to look upon her face _

_again - her small features were unusually delicate for the race of men, and her high cheekbones caused her to appear almost elven in appearance. With her green _

_eyes in his mind, the Elven King strode from his throne room, and made his way towards the bedroom he knew her to be situated in. Moving with the grace _

_possessed by all elves, he slowed as he neared the healing rooms, his keen senses alerting to him to another's presence. Turning the bend, Thranduil laid his eyes _

_upon Lindir, an elf who had accompanied Lord Elrond in his journey to Mirkwood – and in his arms, a slim girl gazing up at him. Lingering behind, he observed with _

_interest as the couple straightened and exchanged niceties. As Lindir stepped backwards, Thranduil caught sight of the girl in full; her long chestnut hair tumbled in _

_waves past her shoulders to her chest, complimenting the golden skin of her bare arms. The inappropriate nightgown she wore hugged her body tightly, silhouetting _

_her elegant figure. She was flawless. Now cleansed of dirt and grime and blood, Thranduil would surely have mistaken the human for another, if it were not for her _

_eyes. The very same pair that had burned into his in the forest a few days past, as Thranduil stared, lost in their deep green, the memory of lifting her in his arms _

_resurfaced suddenly – and abruptly his own eyes narrowed, his icy blue gaze surveying the close proximity between the two with displeasure. Striding forwards, the _

_King smoothly interrupted their exchange, and fixed Lindir with a hostile stare._


	3. Chapter 3

**_Far From Home_  
**

* * *

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from my OC, all else belongs to creative genius Tolkien :)_  
**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Well." Thranduil's cold voice cut through the atmosphere, startling both Susanna and the ellon who had been intently awaiting her answer. "I can see that our human

is awake." He paused, his eyes skimming over her clinging nightgown. "And roaming my corridors in barely more than her skin, it would seem." Susanna blushed

deeply at his dry condemnation of her attire, wishing again that she hadn't left her room. His voice was deep, and he spoke slowly, every word dripping with cool self-

assurance. Standing there in beautiful robes of deep burgundy, with a crown of twigs and red berries upon flawless white-blond hair, the elf's presence was

unmistakably one of royalty. As his pale blue eyes moved leisurely over her body, Susanna had to fight the urge to flinch under his stern gaze. She immediately

crossed her arms over herself, and let her gaze fall to the floor. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she swallowed nervously, fearing that their keen elven ears

would hear it. She was a flurry of emotion – fear, excitement, embarrassment, and a strange tingling sensation she had not experienced before all flooded her system

at once, as the man she had left her room to search for now stood suddenly in front of her. Except he wasn't a man. He was an elf - and he seemed almost too

beautiful to be real. Her hazy memory from the forest seemed absurd now in comparison to the figure before her: like a dull sketch of something magnificent, it had

failed to capture the true extent of his allurement. Broad shoulders, high cheekbones, and a perfect mane of blonde hair filled her view, and Susanna tried

desperately to contain any visible signs of her inner turmoil. Her gaze flickered to his face, and her green eyes widened at finding the elf's fierce azure ones trained

attentively on hers.

* * *

Realizing she had not responded to the stranger's remark, but had instead proceeded to stare shamelessly at him, Susanna quickly looked down again, blinking

furiously as she attempted to escape the emotions that his presence stirred within her. Never before had she been so overwhelmed by another person! Swallowing

once more, she opened her mouth to speak - but before she could seize the chance to defend her modesty, the elf's attention turned abruptly to Lindir, who had

swiftly distanced himself from her at the first sound of the stranger's voice. _"Leave us."_ He said, surveying the other icily. He spoke in what Susanna assumed to be

elvish, and his tone was commanding. Lindir bowed respectfully, and risked another glance at Susanna before turning to walk gracefully back the way he had come.

In his reserved eyes she had seen much curiosity, and a glimmer of something else... fear, perhaps? Apprehension? Tearing her gaze away from his retreating form,

she turned back towards the blonde elf, and her lips parted in a silent gasp as she took in the spark of anger now clear in his once veiled eyes. Displeasure was

plainly written across his handsome features. His hands behind his back, he moved towards her, covering the distance between them in a few long strides until he

loomed over her small frame, his faces mere inches from hers.

* * *

_Thranduil observed with interest the effect his presence had upon the human girl, and resisted the small smile which threatened to break out across his face when he_

_noticed the dilation of her pupils as she looked at him: she was attracted to him. Why this pleased him he could not say, for he was well used to romantic attention_

_from the opposite sex - but the effects he had upon her were painfully obvious, and he gazed with fascination as she struggled to retain a calm appearance. Humans,_

_so unlike elves, were constantly at the mercy of their emotions. His lips twitched upwards, and he curtly dismissed Lindir. They would continue their exchange in_

_private._

_Watching her gaze linger after the ellon, the faint pleasure that Thranduil had felt dissolved in a heartbeat, to be replaced suddenly with something darker. He_

_exhaled angrily through his nostrils, and strode forwards. That Lindir had captured the girl's attention displeased him greatly, and he felt a pang of something akin to_

_jealousy stab at his heart. Looking down at her, the abrupt realization that he was attracted to her fuelled his anger even more – who was she, this common human,_

_to unearth parts of himself that he had buried long before her parents were even born?_

_For a moment they stared at each other in silence, her audible breathing uneven and shallow, her eyes searching desperately in his for an explanation. He could smell_

_the sweet fruit on her breath, and the faint scent of lavender on her skin. The memory of her in his arms resurfaced again without warning, and suddenly the Elven_

_King had the desire to do so once more. The fear and confusion that was etched clearly upon her small features as she shied away from him dispatched his anger as_

_quickly as it had appeared, and his hand twitched as he had the urge to place it upon her face. Perceiving how she leaned to her right, Thranduil straightened up, and_

_extended his elbow to her; that she was in pain was disquieting to him. His desire to know why it was that she was in his realm had not lessened – yet Thranduil_

_found that a new and strange desire for this girl's wellbeing was somehow greater._

* * *

"Walk with me." His cool voice came suddenly, and to Susanna's surprise it was soft – she had been certain that the elf would shout at her, or perhaps even strike her.

She looked shyly up at him, only to see that the anger which had frightened her only moments ago had disappeared, replaced with that same unreadable expression.

She linked her arm through his, and to her confusion he directed them back towards the healing rooms, in place of an interrogation room, or somewhere more

sinister. "I am Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves." His voice sounded again, startling her out of her musings. Susanna subconsciously gripped his arm a fraction

tighter, as she realized that not only had she been carried by an elf, but by a King no less! Determined to repair her earlier first impression, she dipped her head

slightly as she had seen Lindir do, and replied quickly. "I am Susanna. Thank you for intervening in the forest; if it were not for your kindness I surely would have

perished." When he didn't respond, she added hastily, "My King". They walked slowly down the softly lit corridor, and were alone save for one passing servant girl,

who had returned Susanna's smile with a curious stare, before averting her gaze and hurrying by. Both were in silence until they reached the arch of the room she

had been placed in. She had followed the Elven King's lead and his pace, and so as he drew to a stop she swiftly followed suit, removing her arm from his and turning

to face him.

* * *

Susanna gazed at his chest, unable to fully raise her eyes to meet his. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest once more, and she was painfully aware of how

clumsy her movements appeared next to his elven grace. A few moments passed by, and the uncomfortable atmosphere grew, until it became too much for her to

bear. Forcing herself to look upwards, Susanna's breath caught in her throat as she was drawn into the ice-blue eyes gazing into hers, and everything else seemed to

fade into insignificance. "You are in need of rest." Her eyes flickered to his mouth at his words, and she remembered to breathe once again.

"I'm feeling much - " Susana's protest was cut off as the King spoke again, his cool voice easily slicing through hers. "I will see to it that you are treated well. Do not

be shy, should you desire anything." This time it was his eyes that dropped to her mouth, and Susanna, ever observant, noted it with disbelief. Her lips parted in

surprise, and her wide eyes could only stare into his. Though small and seemingly insignificant, it was uncharacteristic of the strict composure of elves, and this

coupled with the close space between them made the gesture appear as more. Before she could gather her scrambled thoughts, Thranduil had abruptly turned,

leaving her at her room. Susanna watched him as he strode, robes trailing behind him, until he turned the bend out of sight. Leaning against the side of the archway,

she exhaled shakily. She had left the bed determined to find answers, yet had returned more puzzled than she had been before. Shaking her head, she limped to the

white bedding, and lowered herself so she sat upon the side. Now that she was alone once more, her thoughts came to her coherently. She had had an interest in

men before, but this felt different; in his presence, she was incapable of speech, of thought – it was as though a spell had been placed upon her mind, rendering her

completely useless. Furrowing her brow, Susanna absently fidgeted with her hands. He was a King! And she had appeared flustered as a newborn calf under his gaze,

offering nothing but stupidity! It was a miracle he had decided to offer her sanctuary after the disastrous impression she had left, and not ordered her to be cast back

into the forest. Cursing herself inwardly, she felt anger stir in her gut at the fact, and a sharp embarrassment at the knowledge that he was also likely to be thinking

over their encounter at this very moment. She sighed, and moved to slid under the welcoming sheets. As she placed her head upon the feather-stuffed pillow, a

strong wave of weariness crashed over her, and she realized the toll her walk had taken on her body. Always eager to live first and rest later, Susanna reluctantly

resigned herself to the fact that the King had ordered she regain her strength before they talk again. In truth King Thranduil had suggested it, and whilst Susanna

had never before encountered anyone of royal stature, she had wit enough to surmise that a suggestion from a King was as good as a command.

Shifting further down under the cool bedding, she let her gaze wander once again around the strange and beautiful room she was in. The warm glow from the walls

helped soothe her agitated mind, and in closing her eyes sleep came swiftly - and with it dreams of spiders, brown hair, and a crown of twigs and berries.


	4. Chapter 4

**Far From Home**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from my OC, all else belongs to the creative genius Tolkien!**

* * *

**Chapter Four **

_The air was weighed down and still in Thranduil's private library, seeming to hum with energy from the wealth of secret knowledge that lay within its walls. Beautifully _

_carved bookcases stretched from floor to ceiling for row after row, a ladder resting upon the books at each end. The floor was layered with lush carpets and _

_exquisitely embroidered rugs, and several marble vases upon elegant podiums stood at the end of each bookcase in a central pathway, each holding a variety of fresh _

_woodland flowers. At the very end of the pathway, a heavy and beautifully carved desk was the centrepiece of the room, and it was laden with scrolls and pieces of _

_parchment - a luscious feather quill lying abandoned in their midst.  
_

_Absentmindedly returning an ancient, dust covered book to a shelf, Thranduil brooded once more over recent events. Today marked the fourteenth day since he had _

_chosen to personally recover the human girl from the forest, and the twelfth since his encounter with her in his corridor. Not one day had passed where the Elven _

_King did not find his mind straying to those wide green eyes, or smooth golden skin. That this stranger had so captured his attention was both intriguing and _

_unsettling to him; for the lifespan of an elf is without natural end, and so for one such as he who had lived for so long, and witnessed so much, for his mind to linger _

_upon the same thing throughout several weeks - that was very rare indeed. "Susanna", he murmured aloud, allowing his tongue to slide over the foreign syllables. It _

_was a human name, that was unmistakable, but it was one previously unheard of to him. Repeating himself under his breath, he mused over the sound of her name; _

_it possessed a lyrical quality to his ears, and stood apart from other names from the race of men, names which Thranduil found coarse and unappealing._

* * *

_A sudden soft knocking behind him pulled him from his thoughts, and Thranduil's brow furrowed in irritation. The duties of a King were never-ending. "Enter", he  
_

_voiced lazily. At his call, the heavy oak door swung forward, and light footsteps reached his ears as the messenger padded a few paces into the room. "My Lord," _

_came a hesitant female voice, "you requested to be notified when the human's wound was healed?" Turning gracefully, Thranduil laid his eyes upon the apprentice _

_healer who was assisting with Susanna's recovery. "And is it?" he replied dryly, his voice cold and unreadable. "Y-yes, my King. She is ailed with a limp at present, _

_but the wound is healed and that too will disappear with time." Gazing at her for a moment, Thranduil surveyed her nervousness. It did not displease him that _

_servants often regarded him with fear, but neither was it pleasing to him – rather, he observed it vaguely with a detached indifference. Turning away, the Elven King _

_dismissed her with a light wave of his hand, and watched sideways as she bowed deeply and hastily scurried into the corridor, closing the door meekly behind her. _

_Reunited with solitude, Thranduil remained standing, leaving the work laying on his desk ignored - his mind focused entirely upon a certain human girl in his healing _

_rooms._

* * *

Susanna growled with frustration. No longer receiving the sweet fruity pain elixir with her meals, the ache in her left calf was making moving around more difficult

than she would have liked. Stumbling over to the dresser, she leaned heavily upon its flat surface, grateful for the support. The arrow wound was closed, and she was

too stubborn to request more pain relief – yet still she felt it, a deep throbbing in her muscle, which sometimes seized up entirely if she remained on her feet for too

long. The embarrassment from her encounter with King Thranduil had faded somewhat, and Susanna was once again burning with curiosity for the palace and its

people about her. Remembering the way he had stood so close to her, and the intensity of his gaze as his icy blue eyes had stared unblinkingly into hers, Susanna

was deep in thought when a hand lightly touched her arm. Gasping she whirled around, and found herself nose to nose with a familiar face – with shiny brown hair

and eyes to match, Susanna was momentarily dazzled as she drank in the elf before her. "Lindir!" she exclaimed, forgetting the reserved nature of the elves in a

moment of shock and joy. From the very minute she arrived, Susanna's warmness had went ignored, and any attempts at conversation with the female elves who

brought her food and changed her bandages were stopped short by their curt, unyielding replies. Everyone had treated her with politeness and respect; yet for the

two weeks Susanna had been a guest, not one person had shown any real interest in her – no one, apart from Lindir, and the King himself.

* * *

Taking a step backwards, Lindir bowed gracefully and smiled. "My Lady," he began, "I caught word that you were once again well, and it was in my mind that you

would perhaps welcome a tour of the gardens?" Dressed in a fine navy doublet under a flowing robe of similar shade, and with tiny braids woven through his hair at

both sides of his head, the ellon was among the most handsome people Susanna had ever laid eyes on. But then again every elf she had caught glimpse of inside the

palace was so beautiful, it was intimidating. Smiling widely back at him, her response was suddenly cut short by another voice filling the air. "Lindir, I have been

searching for you for an age. Lord Elrond requires your presence." Turning, Susanna and Lindir saw a young ellon leaning against the archway. His hair was long, as

Susanna was beginning to suspect was the fashion for all male elves, and blonde. He possessed a striking familiarity - but to whom, she could not place. Her heart

faltered momentarily as his blue eyes shifted from Lindir to herself, and her attempt at a smile quickly faded when she was met only with a blank expression. Beside

her Lindir nodded. Moving to face her again, he bowed deeply, and voiced his apologies. Watching him stride gracefully from the room, Susanna's gaze shifted to the

blonde haired stranger, and she returned his stare, which lingered on her before he too turned to disappear out of sight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Far From Home  
**

* * *

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from my OC, all else belongs to the creative genius Tolkien!_  
**

* * *

**I think it's time for some proper interaction between Thranduil+Susanna, don't you? (;  
This is going to be a busy week for me with uni work, so here's another chapter for you all incase I don't get time to write any more! Let me know what you think :3  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Gazing at the array of dresses she had laid out on her bed, Susanna chewed her lip as she decided which one would be most suitable: she was not going to make the

same mistake again, and leave her room only to be ridiculed for wearing a nightgown in public. Settling on a lavender gown, she hastily put it on and loosed her hair

so it flowed in soft waves over her shoulders and down her back. All of the dresses were borrowed, and all were floor length – but she liked this one best. With tight

sleeves that draped open in a long point at the wrist, a cinched waist, and basic but pretty gold embroidery along a rounded neckline, it was by far the most beautiful

thing she had ever worn. Her father had drank away most of his wages, and being forbidden from finding work, Susanna had had to make do with her mother's old

clothes, alongside her brother's hand-me-downs – anything new was simply out of the question. Lindir's invitation to view the gardens that morning had ignited the

sparks of her curiosity, and her desire to explore her surroundings was now a raging fire that consumed any doubt or fear about leaving her room once more without

having been summoned. She had wasted no time in requesting a warm bath and an early lunch, and once she was fed and watered, with sweet smelling skin and

hair, she slipped on her borrowed pair of soft white shoes and, now donned in a dress to her satisfaction, quietly left the room before any servants reappeared.

* * *

Her hand hovered hesitantly over the ornate golden doorhandle. After making her way through the twists and turns of the palace for the better part of an hour

without finding anywhere that looked as though it may lead outside, Susanna had given up, and had taken to exploring through various archways, and then through

closed doors. She had not been alone in her travels; though encountering mostly servants and guards, who had pointedly ignored her, she had also come across

numerous ellin and ellith who were evidently of higher ranking, and most had smiled at her and greeted her – but none had stopped her, or inquired what she was

doing, as Susanna had feared they would. Travelling through wine cellars and food stores, empty bedrooms and bathing rooms, she had now come to a halt in front of

a heavy oak door. It was plain apart from the handle, but something about it had made her falter, and she stood now, hand outstretched, internally debating whether

she dared look inside. The sound of voices some way down the corridor spurred her into action, and in a split second, she had decided. Closing her hand about the

cold metal, Susanna was just about to press down when suddenly it did so of its own accord. Gasping, she wretched her hand away, and before she could hurry on

down the corridor or even take a step backwards, it abruptly swung inwards and a tall, well built figure blocked the doorway. Blinking furiously, Susanna's cheeks

flushed as her eyes shot upwards and were transfixed by a set of familiar icy blue eyes.

* * *

A few moments passed by, her hand still in the air, and her breathing uneven from shock. His entire body filled her view, and so she saw nothing of the room within.

His broad shoulders were clad in robes of silver, and a beautiful white gem broach was fastened at the top of his tunic. Everything about him was beautiful. Yet his

presence exerted a masculine dominance that Susanna found herself irrevocably drawn to. His clothes were far richer than she had seen any other wearing, and from

their outline she could judge the shape and size of his arms and torso. Looking up again at Thranduil's face, her thoughts wandered from what was underneath his

tunic to what was behind his eyes. She was utterly dazzled by his presence, and this time unashamedly so – her journey through his rooms and corridors and her

interactions with the elves in them had made her bolder, and she was surprised to find herself content with looking at him so openly. His eyes bored into hers, and in

her chest her heart was beating frantically.

* * *

Finally, the tense silence between them was broken. "I had sent for you to be brought to me not one minute ago." his deep voice reverberated through her chest.

"And here you are before me." Susanna could detect a hint of dry mirth in his voice. Fighting her shock and the butterflies clawing desperately at her stomach, she

smiled up at him, and replied. "Its fate." No sooner had the words tumbled out of her mouth than she found herself regretting them. To be so openly flirtatious with

someone who was barely more than a stranger, and a King at that! Her face heated at the thought, and her smile faltered instantly as she doubted the

appropriateness of her words. Seconds passed, yet they felt like hours. His icy blue eyes stared down into hers, and he seemed oblivious to the chattering servants

passing behind her, or their sudden hushed voices as they caught sight of their King closely conversing with the human girl. Eventually his gaze broke away from

hers, and he straightened fully, looking down upon her and slowly taking in the dress she was wearing. Susanna's skin tingled under his appraisal. Blue eyes made

their way slowly back up her body, resting once again on her wary green ones. "Far be it for me to disrupt your exploration of my domain." His eyes searched hers for

a moment more, and the faint humour in his voice was there again. Abruptly moving backwards, Thranduil stepped to the side, and welcomed her in with an open

arm. Swallowing deeply, Susanna restored her smile and walked past him, her insides fluttering at their closeness as she moved by.

* * *

The door thudded shut, cutting them off from the bustling corridor and world beyond. The Elven King's voice resounded close behind her, "This is my private library."

Gazing around, the sight that met her made her breath hitch in her throat, and her heart seemed to falter in her chest. Books and carved wood and glorious rugs and

exquisite flowers all crowded her view at once, and the fragrant air and reverent silence in it assaulted her other senses. "Oh" she breathed, unable to express how

wonderful it was. It was a haven - and she had never seen anything like it. Recovering after a few moments, she turned to see Thranduil standing by her side,

studying her intently. She blushed again under his gaze. "I've never witnessed anything like this" she managed, not even trying to hide the awe that must be shining

in her eyes. Micah's small library had been her most favourite place in the world, yet it was nothing compared to this. She tore her eyes from his, and looked

longingly at the endless shelves of books and scrolls, wanting nothing more than to spend the evening delving into them, uncovering whatever ancient elvish secrets

they contained. A light touch on her elbow startled her, and she turned her head to see Thranduil's hand resting upon it. Gesturing with his free hand, he inclined his

head towards the bookcases. "They will not explore themselves, Susanna." With an open mouth she turned to face him, staring up at his face in disbelief. "Truly?" she

asked, completely bewildered that the King would allow her free reign of his own personal library, never minding the fact that he hadn't yet asked her a single

question concerning her trespassing presence in his realm. His icy blue eyes burned into hers, and his mouth offered no explanation, only a small smile. As

breathtaking as his face was when he wore a hard expression, Susanna found her heart melting at this first sign of emotion. Dropping her eyes to his mouth, her

thoughts began to stray elsewhere, and she forced herself to turn away before her face betrayed her. Tentatively walking towards the nearest shelf, she traced her

fingertips lightly along the aged spines before coming to a halt on one particularly ancient looking book. Using both hands to lift it, she supported its weight on her

left forearm, and opened it gingerly with her right hand. The pages were stiff with time, and the intriguing illustrations were faded.

* * *

Turning several pages, Susanna's nose wrinkled as she found she could read not a single word. Of course the books would be in Elvish! Looking to Thranduil for

assistance, she found that the space he had occupied by the door was empty, and her heart picked up speed as she wondered what she should do; should she leave?

Would it be improper to stay and probe without his presence? Stepping backwards, she gasped aloud as she collided with something hard. A pair of strong hands

came about her waist, and in turning she found herself centimeters away from a wide, hard chest. Not daring to breathe, she looked upwards. The hands on her waist

pulled her close, and one snaked around to the small of her back, holding her tightly. Her hands were pressed against his chest and stomach, and through his clothing

she could feel the hard muscles she had guessed were there earlier. Thranduil's azure eyes were on hers once again, and his head was bent down, his white blonde

hair falling about her. A flash of memory of being in his arms in the forest flooded her mind, and Susanna was finding it hard to breathe. Suddenly, his lips were on

hers - and all else faded into insignificance. He tasted like wine and berries, and his smell surrounded her, scents of earth and musk and sweetness all wrapped into

one. Her arms looped round his neck, and he tightened his grip on her body further, one arm encircling her waist completely, the other spanning the length of her

back, pushing her to him in a demanding embrace. His mouth moved deeply against hers, and she parted her lips, allowing his fierce tongue the access it

commanded. Her hand gripped a handful of his soft hair, and a low moan escaped her. In response Thranduil suddenly pushed her against the bookcase, knotting his

fingers through hers and pinning her arms above her. His strong frame overwhelmed her small one, and as their passion rose he pressed himself more firmly against

her. She could feel his hardness through his clothing, and the sensation of him there against her thighs made her want him in a way Susanna had never wanted a

man before. Her underclothes were slick with her wetness, and he growled into her mouth as if he could sense it. Biting down on his lower lip, Susanna was utterly at

the mercy of her impulses. Groaning, he broke away from her mouth, his breathing ragged and uneven, and pressed his pale forehead against hers. The possibilities

for what could happen were cast away as abruptly as they had appeared, as a sharp loud knocking sounded at the door, which opened without waiting for a response.

Releasing her arms, the Elven King straightened and turned swiftly, glaring at the imposing ellon with rage in his ice blue eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Far From Home  
**

* * *

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but for my OC :)  
**_

* * *

**Chapter Six**

The blonde haired elf who had come searching for Lindir earlier that morning was standing in the doorway, surprise written plainly across his handsome features. His

gaze quickly darted from Susanna, standing breathless and embarrassed, to Thranduil's unusually disheveled hair, and his mouth dropped open slightly as a flash of

realization appeared on his face. Composing himself quickly, he turned to Thranduil and spoke in Elvish before hastily leaving the room, looking at Susanna once

again in disbelief before closing the door. Unable to comprehend a word the ellon had uttered, Susanna clutched at the folds of her dress nervously, and looked to

Thranduil for an explanation. Where only moments before he had been wrought with emotion, the Elven King's face was once again a hard mask, and he stood tall

and rigid, his eyes fixed upon the closed door. Taking advantage of his attention being turned away from her, she stared at him openly and took in once more his regal

form; the long blonde hair flowing over fine silver robes, the elegantly woven crown, the strong profile of his face. Susanna's cheeks flushed deeply. The familiar

feeling of inferiority at his power and beauty swiftly returned, and she felt, once again, intimidated. The brief connection between them abruptly severed, Susanna felt

hot tears pricking her eyes. Determined to contain any sign of weakness, she slowed her breathing to an almost even pace and swallowed, staving off the tears

threatening to spill down her face. She realized suddenly that her attraction towards this elf was fierce, it was an almost painful need – like nothing she had felt for

any human man from her town before. She had read and heard about instantly loving someone after but a few encounters, yet she had always scoffed at the idea.

And now here she was, falling in love with an Elven King. Swallowing again, she inhaled a shaky breath, her mind reeling. Thranduil had not moved, nor had he made

any attempt to speak. The emotion bubbling up inside her was close to spilling over, and suddenly Susanna found that she could not bear to remain in the library for a

minute more. Only a few minutes had passed since their interruption, yet it had felt like hours to the human girl. As Thranduil began to turn back to face her, Susanna

moved swiftly forwards, her eyes refusing to look at him. "I should leave." She said bluntly. In her strides towards the door she found herself wishing both to retreat

to the privacy of her room - but also for him to stop her. Her hand closing about the ornate handle, she forced herself to open it and slip outside. He had not tried to

make her stay. She closed it with a thud, and stood for a moment on the other side. Servants were bustling up and down the corridor, and the quiet air of the library

was now replaced with happy chatter. Exhaling, Susanna calmed herself, and took off at a brisk pace back towards her chambers before the door at her back could

open again.

* * *

_Opening the door, Thranduil gazed in disbelief at the human girl standing on the other side – he had dismissed a servant with the intent of summoning her to him _

_only a mere minute past, and here she was before him. Voicing as much to her, her reply made his breath catch in his throat. 'It's fate'. Her words struck a chord in _

_his mind. Dressed in an elegant lavender dress, she was certainly the most beautiful mortal Thranduil had seen in centuries. 'It's fate'. He wondered at her words.. _

_Galadriel, Lady of Light, had foretold of a second love entering his life shortly after his wife's untimely death, and in his grief he had dismissed her words as _

_impossible. That was an age ago, and since her prophecy Thranduil had lived completely engulfed in the memory of his first love – but the past one hundred years _

_had brought with them a faint desire to join his soul with another's again, a desire that the Elven King had fought to quell, out of respect for his wife's spirit – but _

_nevertheless a desire that grew with each passing day. Staring into those green eyes, Thranduil found himself inviting her to join him. Observing her intently, he _

_watched her reactions with fascination. How unlike elves were humans, their emotions so openly on display, their hearts so easily pleased. He found his own heart _

_swelling at the joy in her eyes as she took in the splendour of his library, and he could not hold back a small smile at her face as she gazed up into his, adoration and _

_awe drenching her features in response to his invitation to explore the shelves. Lightly following her, his hands firmly grasped her waist as she fell backwards into _

_him, and when she turned to face him his heart beat furiously in his chest. Thranduil relished these long-forgotten emotions. Suddenly he found himself wanting to _

_live them, instead of stopping to process them. Before he knew it, his lips were on hers, and to his delight she kissed him back openly, her arms snaking around his _

_neck. She was so small, and in his arms he felt an urge of masculine protectiveness. Her scent was intoxicating – like fruits and lavender and soap with a hint of _

_sweat all rolled into one. She moaned into his mouth, and he felt himself growing hard in response. Pinning her under him against a bookcase, Thranduil's keen elven _

_senses intensified everything – he could hear her heartbeat, furious inside her chest. The scent of her slick arousal, the sound of her ragged breathing; everything _

_else faded into the background, there was only her, nothing else mattered. The duties of a King were cast aside as Thranduil was overwhelmed by primal instinct – _

_the feel of her soft body against his, her small hands clutching fiercely at his hair and shoulders, it stirred more emotion than he had felt in an age._

* * *

_Suddenly the __door flung open, shattering the golden moment. Legolas stood dumbstruck in the doorway, looking with an open mouth at his father and the human_

_girl. Composing __himself, he spoke stiffly. "I can see you are occupied.. I shall return later." Shutting the door behind him, the prince left a tense atmosphere in the_

_room, and __Thranduil stared after him, his mind in turmoil. His senses no longer clouded by lust, he reeled with thoughts of what had just occurred. How could he,_

_King of Mirkwood, allow himself to be bewitched by a mere girl – a human girl! Romances between elf kind and the race of men were something he had personally_

_condemned, and yet he himself felt his heart flutter whenever he gazed into Susanna's green eyes. Susanna. Turning to look at her, Thranduil was taken aback as_

_she walked briskly past him, a hard expression on her delicate face. "I should leave" she said, abruptly thrusting the words into the air and allowing no room for _

_response as she made her way hastily towards the door, closing it quickly behind her. Thranduil stood in silence, alone once more. He had not had such an intense _

_experience with anyone since the death of his wife, and it both excited and unnerved him. And for it to happen now, so suddenly – and with a human. This last _

_thought evoked a twinge of anger at himself. Was he so desperate for a connection that he would look to the first willing female, regardless of race? Fighting through _

_uncomfortable thoughts, Thranduil laid out his emotions openly in his mind – no, Susanna was more than that. He cared for this girl – he knew he had cared for her _

_as soon as he had held her in his arms in the forest, and her eyes had met his. Thranduil stood in solitude for a while longer, mulling over the recent events. Finally, _

_drained from emotional turmoil, the Elven King decided to retire to his chambers, with a mind to order a hot bath be prepared to soak the tension from his body. _

_Wrapping his fingers about the golden door handle, one final afterthought emerged suddenly – what would his people think? Pausing but for a second, Thranduil _

_closed the door gently behind him, and strode gracefully towards his chambers. Dismissing the thought from his mind, he found he did not care._


	7. Chapter 7

**_Far From Home_**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC! :)  
****  
****I lost my muse for a while, and this as well as a shitload of uni work has meant that I stopped writing for a bit, sorry about that! My exams are in the next few weeks, so here's another chapter for you all until they're over and done with, then I should be free to write all summer :) ******

**I was beginning to lose interest in this story, so this chapter is me easing back into it, and I decided to do something a bit different and focus on Susanna's thought processes about her experience so far .. sorry if it's kinda boring, but I'm working on the next one right now so never fear it should be up before too long :) Be sure to lemme know what you think, and thank you all for the kind reviews so far, they really made me smile, it's great to know there are people out there that like what I'm writing! :)**

* * *

**_Chapter 7_**

Susanna gazed into the long mirror leaning against the wall, and intently scrutinized her appearance; she looked tired, though the dark circles under her eyes were

barely noticeable, thanks to her tanned complexion. Six days had came and went since her encounter with the King of Mirkwood in his library, and yesterday she had

been moved from the healing room she had been staying in, to instead a modestly sized bedroom. It was plainly decorated, but to her delight held an adjoining

washroom, complete with a small bath – allowing Susanna the comfort of freshening up whenever she chose. She had also been gifted with a handmaiden, Ilmadia,

who helped her dress in the mornings, and braided her long hair in complicated, beautiful plaits, as was the elvish fashion. Though the ellith was beautiful and kind,

Susanna found that a barrier remained between them, preventing any kind of meaningful friendship. The elves, it seemed, did not object to her presence in their

Kingdom – but neither did they have any substantial interest in her, the mortal.

* * *

Turning to the side, she admired the fine stitching that embellished her dress with subtle flowers and swirls from top to bottom. Pale pink silk, with the beautiful

patterns layered on the surface in thread only a fraction of a shade lighter, the gown was exquisitely made, and rendered her previous dresses dull and ugly in

comparison. Upon entering her new bedroom, Susanna had found that the few plain dresses she had been wearing upon her arrival had been discarded, and replaced

instead with much richer gowns. At first she had been reluctant to even touch them, her fingers trailing hesitantly over the fabrics in disbelief, afraid a serving girl had

mistakenly placed them in the wrong room and would come rushing back any second to whisk them away back to their rightful owner – but when Ilmadia reassured

her that they were intended for her, adding with a coy smile that they were a gift from the King, it had become clear that the gesture was an apology of sorts. Gazing

again at her face in the mirror, Susanna recalled how she had felt first confused, and then embarrassed – now, she was simply annoyed. A great deal of time had

passed since she had retained consciousness, and the King had yet to interrogate her concerning her presence in his forest – in fact, she realized with a start, he had

yet to hold any meaningful conversation with her at all. Susanna was by no means versed in the art of diplomacy, but she found his actions to be puzzling, to say the

least; it seemed to her that, should a lone and injured traveller be found in a King's realm, the King's immediate priority (after ensuring the foreigner's recovery, out

of good will), should then be to discover their purpose for being in his lands. That, she reasoned, is what any sane King would do. Thranduil, on the other hand,

though indeed allowing Susanna plenty of time to rest and heal, had then had the audacity to kiss her – followed by ignoring her for the better part of a week, and

then abruptly moving her into an altogether more pleasing room, for no apparent reason. What had transpired between them in the library still caused her heart to

race and cheeks to flush whenever she dwelled upon it, and Susanna did not even attempt to lie to herself – she had enjoyed it. Very much. The connection she had

felt between them, it was indescribable - but she was certain it had felt so much more than purely physical. After allowing herself a day to recover from the shock of

what had happened, she was then confident that she would soon be summoned once more before the King, and had spent hours planning all that she should say in

her head – should she apologize? Pretend it had never happened? Demand he apologize to her? For days she agonised over this, only to be met with silence. No

knock at her door requesting her presence, no glimpse of him strolling down a corridor, not even a slight hint in the chatter of servants of what the King has occupied

his time with. She sighed, shaking her head slightly at her reflection. She was beginning to suspect that elves, as well as being much more complicated beings,

generally took twice as long as men in doing, well, _anything_. Her brow furrowed in frustration. With their incredibly long life-spans, it did make sense that elves would

then lack the haste of men – things that a man might resolve to do on the morrow, an elf may do in a week. Still, she was not an elf, and her patience was beginning

to wear thin.

* * *

Tearing herself away from the mirror, Susanna paced the room restlessly. Although she had not been confined to her room, she was starting to feel like a prisoner;

the endless underground corridors, whilst very beautiful, were a maze to the human girl, and she could not hope to find her way out without a guide. Crossing the

room to the bed, she sank down onto its pristine white sheets with a sigh, lost in her own musings. It was not the fact that she could not leave unaided that bothered

her, she found – but instead, the startling fact that she did not want to. Not yet. Lying on her back spread eagle, piercing azure eyes loomed before her closed

eyelids, as they had so often done since the forest, their powerful gaze seeming to penetrate her very soul. Thranduil. She knew so little about him, and yet she felt

herself inexplicably drawn to him. Their passion in the library had been mutual, of that she was sure. But now, left to brood in her solitude, she questioned the depth

of their connection; though she was inexperienced, she was not naive – she knew that most men valued only physical relationships. Was that all she was to him? An

exciting new body, something fresh, a pleasant change from elven women? Susanna felt her throat tighten and her mouth dry up at the thought. No, she was getting

ahead of herself. She had met the King only briefly, and what had happened between them was a flurry of impulse and desire... a mistake? How could she be so sure

he saw her in that way at all? He was a King. And she was a mortal, a human woman. She was surely little more than a peasant in his eyes. Her hands clenched into

fists, gathering the white sheet between her knuckles. Deep in thought, a sudden knock at her door jolted Susanna back to reality. Her green eyes widened, and her

breath stuttered in her throat. Was she to be summoned before the subject of her thoughts now, this very moment?! Frozen for a few seconds that seemed to stretch

into eternity, she scrambled to gather her wits back to her and exhaled, before taking a deep breath in. Controlling her breathing with some difficulty, she attempted

to quieten her racing heart. "Come in", she called, rising hastily from the bed. Standing with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, Susanna watched as the wooden

door swung gently open.


End file.
